One day he returned home unexpectedly, and
the first glance told his mother he was in trouble. "Mother, I feel
really sick. I was sick yesterday, but I kept in the store; but to-day I
could only go down and see Mr. Barker, and tell him I must come home for
a day or two. Oh, mother it is a comfort to see your dear kind face
again," said he, as she felt his pulse, examined his tongue, and
inquired how he felt, "and perhaps if I can rest quietly an hour or two
this dreadful pain in my head will be relieved."
He went to his pleasant chamber, to his quiet bed, the physician was
summoned, and all that skill and the tenderest care could do was done,
but he rapidly drew near the grave. He was patient, gentle, grateful,
beautiful upon that bed of death, and while his mother's soul was poured
forth in earnest prayer, for his continued life, her heart swelled with
grateful thanksgiving for the sweet evidence he gave of a subdued and
Christian spirit, and she could say with true and cheerful submission,
"Not my will but _Thine_ be done, whether for life or death, for it is
well with the child."
Just at twilight one evening, he awoke from a short slumber, and his eye
sought his mother at his bedside. She leaned over him and softly pressed
her lips to his forehead. "Mother," he said, faintly, "the Doctor has
given up all hope of my life, has he not?" Nerving herself to calmness
for his sake, she answered, "He thinks you very sick, Charley, but I
cannot give up all hope.
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